Stepping away from the man, I tug my hand loose and push my hair behind my ear just so I have something to do to justify my withdrawal. “I have plans tonight.”
“So cancel them,” he murmurs and steps toward me again, his eyes intensely serious.
Yes, cancel them. Go out with this man and just experience one super and stunning night of hot, out-of-control passion.
I give myself a mental slap.
Shaking my head, I give him an apologetic smile. “Can’t. I have a date tonight with my boyfriend.”
Lie, lie, lie.
Those light blue eyes stare at me for a moment, considering whether he should argue with me, but then they quickly fill with disappointed resignation. He gives me a slight nod of his head and an ironic smile. “Lucky man.”
Unlucky me, I think to myself, and I’m on the verge of telling him that I had a momentary lapse of idiocy and that I would love to do something… anything… with him, when my phone rings. Giving him a short smile, I pull my phone out and see it’s Hunter calling me back.
Turning my back on the two men, I walk a few paces away from the Jeep as I answer his call. “Hey… did you get my message?”
“Yeah,” he says, and I can hear music in the background so I know he’s at the bar. “Do you need me to come get you?”
“No,” I assure him. “I had two good Samaritans stop to help me out. They’re putting my spare on, and I should be there soon. But I apparently have a nail in the tire and need to get that fixed.”
“I’ll take the tire for you this afternoon, get it plugged, and then change it out for you. It will be all good by the time you get off your shift this evening,” he says, and then his voice becomes muffled as I assume he covers the mouthpiece on the phone to yell at someone in the background, “Hey… get off the damn table before you break your neck.”
I snicker and shoot a glance back over my shoulder. The blond guy has the spare on and is releasing the jack from under the Jeep. The dark-haired guy is leaning back against my tailgate, hands casually tucked in his pockets, watching me.
Damn, he is so amazingly gorgeous that I’m struck a bit stupid for a moment.
“Sorry about that,” Hunter says. “Stupid college frat kids in here getting drunk all day. You’re going to have your hands full when you get here.”
“Crap,” I grumble as I turn back away from the gorgeously hot biker watching me. “College kids don’t tip worth a shit.”
Hunter chuckles. “Well, at least it’s a Friday and you’ll have more customers so that means more tips.”
“Aren’t you just a ball of sunshine,” I quip at him. “I’ll be there soon.”
I disconnect, shove the phone in my back pocket, and turn to walk back to my Jeep. Both men watch me approach with appreciative eyes and while I never mind a man checking me out, I have to say I very much like it coming from the dark-haired biker. I saunter past them both toward my driver’s door where I reach in and grab my purse.
“Here… let me give you guys some money for helping me out,” I say over my shoulder, not really having the money to spare but feeling obligated to offer it all the same.
“No need,” that deep voice says from right behind me, but then sounds further away when I hear, “Glad to help.”
I push back from the interior and look over my left shoulder, watching both men walking back toward their bikes. The dark-haired one doesn’t give me a second glance but the blond looks over his shoulder before turning around to face me, then walking backward right alongside the other guy. His eyes rake up and down me, and he gives me a wolfish grin. “It was our pleasure for sure, Goldie.”
I smirk at him, shake my head, and get in my Jeep. By the time I have my seatbelt on and the engine cranked, they’re just swinging their legs back over their bikes. I check the traffic in my rearview mirror, see it’s clear, and pull out onto the road.
With a few short punches of my fist to the steering wheel, I beep my horn in acknowledgement and take off down the road, leaving that dark, sexy biker behind in reality… but I guarantee he’ll make an appearance in my future fantasies.
Chapter 4
Tenn
As I strap my helmet back onto my head, I watch the blue Jeep pull away with my fantasy woman inside and try to tamp down my annoyance. Of course she’d have a boyfriend. What woman that looked like that, walked like that, talked like that… wouldn’t have a boyfriend?
“Fucking eleven-plus,” Kyle says from beside me.
My head swivels his way as I pop my kickstand back with the heel of my boot. “Eleven plus?”
“Goldie there,” he says as he nods his head down the highway where I can barely see her vehicle as it drives away in the distance. “Eleven plus on the scale.”
Higher, I think to myself, because fuck… a woman like her was created to define the word beautiful. But what I really liked about our brief interchange is the confidence in which she bears that beauty. Not in a cocky or self-absorbed way, but more in an assured, intelligent way. Like she works what was given to her in calculated measure, and I’ve always respected a woman that has the independence to want to look out for her own best interests. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with taking care of a woman… protecting her. But I like the confidence of one that knows she can do it herself, and that without a doubt, is the type of woman Goldie represents.